


The Passing of the Light

by Caitlyn_Collins



Category: Dark Shadows (1966)
Genre: F/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4043032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitlyn_Collins/pseuds/Caitlyn_Collins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barnabas has come to claim Josette.  An expansion of a canon scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Passing of the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the print fanzine “The Deadly Triangle” in 1977. 
> 
> I’m also including the poem “Josette/ Prelude To Night” at the end of this piece, which also was published in “The Deadly Triangle”.

The ethereal light departs like a dream, leaving behind the cool pure darkness. I wait.

Timeless. Minutes, hours, weeks fade and blend and meet together till I am no longer sure of their reality. Was it so very long ago that I came to this land, a stranger to all but him? Everything was simple, all in my life was expected, planned. Then I threw everything away for ashes. I owe you something more than regret, Jeremiah, but I do not know what more I can give. You are gone now, and I... I have been given a second chance.

I watched as Barnabas died, and felt all the hopes aroused in me by the lies of the witch's book shatter and vanish. I could have accepted my own death, a willing sacrifice for my love, if only the other were true, and he had lived.

He swore as he died that he would return... and I waited, despite aunt Natalie, despite all reason, despite everything. And he did not lie. He came back, and though for two agonized days and nights he refused my presence, our love was stronger, and he made me his.

He is here even now in my room. He comes to me and places his cold hands on mine. We move together into each other's arms. His touch is light, butterfly wing-tipped, and the icy feel of his skin is somehow good. He brushes the hair from my neck. I do not understand, nor see... but feel. Shock, like falling into ice water, moving, swift lifekilling currents. And then the river takes me, the dark takes me, and it is good. The light dims and flickers before my eyes. I am aware of his head at my throat, my life strengthening him, departing me. His arms are secure around me, holding me, for otherwise I would surely fall. I feel half dead and yet more alive than I have ever felt before. The light of the lamp sparkles, breaks aparts, reforms, casting dim shadows of ever progressing shades of grey that merge into the rich blackness of the shadows in the corners. The dark evolves. I feel the change…

He withdraws from me. I weakly reach up to embrace him. Then he is gone, and I am alone in the room, but not in my mind, for he is there, now, always.

An instant. Daylight forms and withdraws, the enemy behind my closed curtains. This night.

“Josette... forgive me...”

He calls to me, and I go to him, my love burning through me. This is ordained, this is meant to be.

“I must be with you, Barnabas. Please let me be with you.”

He stands silent for a moment, his eyes troubled. I want to change that, to make him see how right this is.

“Is it worth giving everything up?” he asks, his voice thickened and harsh. “Your friends, your family? Our lives must be lived in secrecy and fear.”

“Then that is the way it is to be.” I am calm, determined. He faces me, and I thrill to the power inherent in his gaze.

He seems to realize this and looks away. He continues, his voice low and torn with pain. “Is there nothing I can say to show you how impossible it will be?”

“Only one thing. Say you do not love me.”

“I cannot,” he says, his voice a ragged whisper, shuddering on the still air. Tenderness now suffuses his face, and for a moment he looks almost as he did before. “I love you very much. My love for you will never change.”

“Nor mine for you,” I say. “That is all that matters. Our love.”

“Are you sure? Can you trust me? Will you accept whatever I must do?”

“I will, Barnabas.”

“You will be different.”

“I am willing to be. I am not afraid of anything except living without you. There is no ceremony which could make me more your wife.”

His face changes slightly at that. “Yes,” he says slowly. “You are my wife, as you were always meant to be. Give me your hand.”

I reach out, and he takes my hand lightly, slipping the black onyx ring from his own finger to mine. It is too large for me. I form my hand into a fist to prevent it from slipping off, and smile at its dark beauty, a midnight omen of our life. “Oh, Barnabas... This night will fulfill all my longing.” I look up into his face. Some of the shadows haunting his eyes have departed. I see love there, and long to ease its twin, pain. “Come. Let us go and we shall never return. Show me the way and I will follow.”

“There can be no return. It is a world of darkness.”

“It shall be lit by our love...”

He hesitates, and I can feel him trying to tear himself from me.

“It is not too late. You can still be free of me.”

“Barnabas, the time for question and doubt is long past.” I choose my words, knowing he may still leave me and be gone with the shadows in the night. “I will go with you, not to death and darkness, but to a world of unending joy. Come. Take my hand and we shall go together.”

He reaches out to me and I to him. Our hands join. He touches the place that works the secret panel, then takes a candle for my sake that I might see the way.

The air in the secret passage is heavy with the dust of decades. Small creatures, disturbed by our approach, scutter away into the blackness. The candle casts a dim pool of light on the steep stairs. But his strong hand is a surer guide. I fear nothing now, for I am with him.

He leads me through a maze of sharply twisting passageways in the depths of Collinwood that I would never have guessed existed. We go so far that I think we should have left the house many times over before we finally step through some hidden door into the cool and welcoming night. Thick trees obscure our vision, their branches making an intricate pattern against the night sky. Few stars gleam through, but they are enough. The dark is all the light I shall ever need now.

We walk through the night as if in a dream. A light breeze sings faintly through the swaying branches. Once I would have called it cold, but I scarcely feel it anymore.

It is as if he were one with the air and the darkness, and I, caught willingly; metamorphosis half-complete. Is this what he meant, I wonder, when he spoke of the change - this feeling of unity with sky and dark and cloudless stars?

I stumble slightly, then fall. To my surprise, I cannot rise. My body does not respond to my command. He kneels beside me. I am not aware of the tears on my face until he brushes them away, a nameless glint of something unspeakable in his eyes.

As he touches me, for an instant I feel as he does - remorse, guilt, longing, hunger, need, HUNGER - love –

He picks me up lightly in his arms. I clasp my hands around his neck, content in his presence, the sure aura of his love. The other I do not care to think of; I will myself to forget.

We are at the Old House. I must have fainted or fallen asleep. The Old House where I was to be wed... my bridal chamber.

He carries me to what was to be our room... to what is our room, and lays me down gently on the bed.

“My dearest Josette,” he says softly, stroking my face and hair with his cold hands.

It excites me; I forget about the heavy dizzying weakness that had dragged me to the edge of sleep a moment before. I reach up to him, and he lays himself down beside me, taking me in his arms.

 

He leaves me before dawn. I feel the light outside through the heavy curtains are drawn, and know instinctively that he must go.

He rises, looks down, and the love in his eyes gives me life.

“Barnabas,” I whisper, too gloriously weak to put any more effort in my voice. “Do not fear the dark, for I do not. It is truly beautiful.”

He smiles slightly, and I see both pain and hope in his eyes. I understand the reason for the pain.

“I must leave,” he says.

“I know. I will await you, my dearest love…”

 

“Josette/ Prelude To Night”

a moments interlude  
the brief eternity of love  
before the dark.  
The twilight is already here  
Though those stars that exist shine brighter  
for their solitude.  
The sun dies quietly.  
Unnoticed  
the faintest of sighs  
passing  
with the dark on the edge of my mind.


End file.
